David McLansky

Veteran Poet - 1,194 Points (5/24/1944 / New York City)

The White Ship (40) - Poem by David McLansky

(40) The Hospice Room

Oh the boredom of a hospice room
The cleaning man with mop and broom
He sprays and mops the settled dust
Both pail and post are stained with rust.

My sleeping bride so peaceful sleeps
At Hypnos’ side five fathoms deep
The God of sleep won’t let her rise
Despite my surface bubbled cries

Comments about The White Ship (40) by David McLansky

  • Gold Star - 69,266 Points Gajanan Mishra (4/12/2013 5:38:00 AM)

    The Go of sleep won't let her rise. good write. thanks. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 12, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 8, 2013

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